Second runner-up for poetry in the Holiday Blog Contest is Amalia Alvarez of Media, PA. Enjoy!
Is It Time Yet?
We still shared a room together. Luis slept on the top bunk and I slept on the bottom, but tonight, for Christmas Eve, only for tonight, we slept together. Both of us on the top. We had taken our bath together, each of us wearing our one piece pajama suit with the built in slipper feet. This was the best night of the year, the stakes and expectations were high. I was expecting a doll house from the bearded fat man who traveled by sleigh. My brother knew better about Santa and his Reindeer, but I had no idea. He preferred to maintain the magic for his baby sister. I remember laying there in the darkness on that top bunk next to my brother in 1980. The excitement buzzed me awake, but all I could do was wait. It was cold and the sun was still sleeping. “Is it time yet?” I asked him. The clock read 5:05am. “No, not yet we have to sleep some more.” “OK.” I said. Five minutes later. “Is it time yet?” I asked again. “No! If you go out now, Santa might still be out there.” Against my brother’s wishes, I defected and climbed down from the bed. I creeped out the bedroom, tip toed through the hallway into the living room to find a Christmas morning wonderland. On the coffee table before me, there sat my dream, a two story dollhouse, all lit up, beaming with rectangular rooms and tiny furniture, set and ready to play house. I began arranging the index finger beds upstairs; making big decisions about who was going to sleep where. I tested out the lite bright lamps; imagining what the family would have for dinner— steak and spaghetti? Liver? Tortillas con queso? I looked up to see Luis. Hovering over me, eyes piercing, he shook his head left to right; arms flopping down the sides of his trunk.